


Go down, gently

by olosta



Series: Disasters are not funny (or are they?) [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Awkward Sexual Situations, Demisexual Katsuki Yuuri, Dorks in Love, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-11-03 18:46:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10973190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olosta/pseuds/olosta
Summary: Victor goes straight to St. Petersburg from Barcelona, but does not compete in the Russian Nationals, after all. Yakov promises to pull some strings with the ISU and RSF to allow him to participate in the European Championship. Unfortunately, he misses Yuuri’s All-Japan, as Yakov insists that Victor announces his return officially on the press conference during the Russian Nationals, after which he can depart to Hasetsu for a short holiday. Yuuri wins gold with the support of Minako, and is able to skip the evening banquet and pick up Victor at the Kansai International Airport in Osaka, so they  can return to Hasetsu together.The holiday seems like a perfect time for upgrading their relationship.Sentences in italics mean they speak Japanese





	Go down, gently

**Author's Note:**

> Victor’s holiday is 25.12 – 2.1.  
> All-Japan Figure Skating Championships are a figure skating national championship held annually to determine the national champions of Japan. In 2016 (where this fic takes place) they were held in Osaka.  
> .........................  
> *proudly boarding the Victuuri ship with some extremely self-indulgent fic* soo, this turned out less sexy than I’d intended, but I have to be content with it as it is, as it’s the first time I’ve ever written smut, and I can only hope it gets better with time.

Victor couldn’t help but notice that Yuuri had been fidgety the whole afternoon, ever since they had returned from the rink. He kept stealing glances at the Russian during the dinner, flushing slightly when Victor accidentally caught him looking. Victor found it equally amusing and exasperating, although oftentimes he really wished to know what was going on in his Yuuri’s mind. He wondered if Yuuri was still ruminating on the morning incident.

They had spent a lot time on the phone and Skype while Victor was in Russia, but nothing could compare when they met in Osaka on December 25th. Minako had already left by an earlier train, taking with her part of Yuuri’s luggage, so that Yuuri could pick up Victor from the airport without much hassle.

They were both starved for touch so much that the first night after they arrived home, and after Yuuri boldly followed Victor into his room, they only kissed desperately and clutched at each other in the bed until they fell asleep. Victor’s birthday never came up that day.

For the following day, December 26th, they had already planned in a morning run, weight training at the gym, lunch at the Yu-topia and a short ice session in the afternoon, before dinner. They had been invited for an evening out by Minako and the Nishigoris, which was absolutely not a celebration of Victor’s birthday. In such a packed schedule the two didn’t have much time to spend alone.

Privacy was generally a problematic point in Yu-topia. The walls were paper thin, and they usually all knew where each member of the family was at a given time. Yuuri’s mother had almost given Yuuri a heart attack that morning when she shamelessly entered their room after a cursory knock, going straight to the window to pull aside the curtains. She threw the window open with a cheerful “ _Good morning, sleepy birds!_ ” (they both had the audacity to stay in bed until after 8).

Victor was jolted out of deep sleep, as was Yuuri, and he could make out Yuuri’s grumble: “ _Mom, you can’t just barge in here like this. What if we were naked or something_ ,” and then a yelp as he realized what he had just said. He sat up, turning beet red, and waved his hands in front of his flustered face: “ _No, no, I didn’t mean it like that, please forget what I said_ ,” and then turned, throwing himself into Victor’s embrace, effectively hiding his face from his chuckling mother. Yuuri’s sleep addled mind really was something, Victor thought. “ _Good morning_ _, Hiroko-san,”_ he said. He was pleased to notice that his Japanese skills didn’t leave him in the two weeks he spent speaking only russian.

“ _Good morning, Vicchan. The breakfast is on the table, but take your time. I just thought you didn’t w_ _a_ _nt to sleep all day,_ _with all the plans you’_ _ve_ _made and such,_ _”_ _s_ he said with a wink.

“ _Yes,”_ Victor said.

“ _Arigatou gozaimasu,”_ mumbled Yuuri from his hiding place on Victor’s chest, ever the polite Japanese son. “ _Now, can yo_ _u_ _please leave, mom, you’re_ _so_ _embarrassing.”_

 

The day went on exactly as they had planned after the (in Yuuri’s opinion) disastrous morning, except Yuuri kept growing more and more restless as the afternoon was progressing, and Victor had no inkling why. It seemed to culminate during the dinner with the Katsuki family. The second Victor picked up the last smidge of food from his plate, Yuuri called “ _g_ _ochisousama”_ _,_ unceremoniously snatched his platestaplingit on his own, sprang up and took them into the kitchen, where he deposited them dishes clumsily into the sink.

Victor was left sitting there with chopsticks still touching his mouth, brows lifted in surprise. Hiroko stopped in the middle of explaining something to Toshiya and clucked at Yuuri’s surprisingly rude action. Mari let out an amused guffaw.

“Say, whatever did you do to my brother in the Ice Castle that he is buzzing around like an irritated mosquito? Did you have an argument or something?”

Victor just shrugged and shook his head, putting the chopsticks down on the chopstick holder which Yuuri had fortunately left there on the table.

“No. I’ve no idea,” he said. “I was working on my long program choreo, then we went through some parts of our exhibition skate, nothing exhausting, and then we ran home and showered. And had dinner with you. That’s it.”

He barely finished the sentence when Yuuri returned to literally manhandle him into standing position and pulled him after himself. “ _We will be in my room; I want to show Victor something. Also I think we’re gonna nap a bit_ _before_ _we_ _go out with the Nishigoris_ _, so don’t disturb us,”_ he mumbled to no one in particular, eyes cast down stubbornly at his feet, ears quite a bright shade of red. Victor, who understood only a part of Yuuri’s quick, accented sentence, only repeated wordlessly the gesture of _I_ _really don’t know_ _what this is about,_ and off they were. They didn’t hear Hiroko’s chuckle or Mari’s offhand remark: “ _Yeah, I bet you want to show him something, little bro.”_

 

Yuuri ignored Victor’s inquiries as they stumbled up the stairs; he only pulled Victor after him with purposeful determination. Victor craned his neck as they passed his old room. The door was ajar and he could see Makkachin sprawled on the covers, sleeping. “Yuuri, if you want to take a nap, why we don’t go into my room? The bed is much larger there.”

But Yuuri only shook his head, shoved Victor into his old room, shut it behind him and leaned on the door. “But it doesn’t have a lock,” he said, turning the key behind him. Victor was still clueless—later he was blaming the hearty meal for his momentary denseness—when Yuuri put both of his hands on Victor’s shoulders, pushed him towards the bed and down on it, and straddled Victor’s lap, all the while not breaking eye contact.

“Oh,” Victor said. “Ooh, I see, that’s why you wanted mppffh...”

Yuuri claimed his lips passionately—not that Victor would complain. He just...really wasn’t used to Yuuri being this assertive when it came to the intimate parts of their relationship. Usually it was more like a dance, a careful choreography of gentle pushing forward, testing the boundaries and taking a step back if he noticed the other was too overwhelmed. But this Yuuri right now was more like the femme fatale he claimed to be on the ice when performing Eros.

All that was great, but there was definitely too much tongue. Victor gently pushed Yuuri away with one hand, while with the other he tried to discreetly wipe his chin from a trickle of drool that had escaped their mouths under Yuuri’s overenthusiastic smooching attack. “Yuuri, Yuuri, slow down, I’m not going anywhere. For the next week, at least,” he said. He put his hands on the small of Yuuri’s back and squeezed him reassuringly. Yuuri was panting, eyes wide open and shiny, clutching Victor around his neck as if he was indeed afraid that the other man would disappear any minute.

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” he said and laughed nervously. “I just...Victor, I just want...” he trailed off.

“Yes, love, tell me what do you want?” Victor tried to nudge him into the right direction.

“I want...I want,” Yuuri repeated, turning progressively redder. He let out a long sigh. “I want...”

He pushed his face into Victor’s neck with a frustrated groan, hiding himself from the other man’s look, and ground down his hips.

Victor inhaled sharply, feeling Yuuri’s erection against his groin. He realized that Yuuri was _horny_ —a concept that he’d never thought he would apply to Yuuri. Up till now, it was always Victor who initiated any intimate encounters other than kissing. He stroked his hair and patted his back, crooning soothingly into his ear: “All’s well, love, it’s ok, we’ll figure out what is it you want together, all right? Everything’s all right.” Yuuri just let out something between a confirmatory hum and a whine.

They had talked about this particular hurdle. Victor knew that the matter with Yuuri’s sexual inexperience ran deeper than simply being too busy with skating or too anxious to find a lover. Yuuri confessed that he’d never really thought about sex, at all, so he lacked the precise concepts and words to express himself. It was not like he was completely clueless about the _mechanics_ of sex, he said, he’d just never felt the need to imagine himself in such a situation. He also revealed that the idea of saying out right what he wanted terrified to him to no end. So Victor did his best to coax out of Yuuri what he liked and didn’t like. But sometimes, like right now, he too felt a bit lost.

But then an idea popped into his mind. He knew Yuuri wanted to do something with him and he wanted it badly—why else would he take him into a lockable room with a painfully obvious excuse—so perhaps it was time to take their relationship to the next level. If Yuuri didn’t know how, Victor would make a suggestion, and Yuuri could decide whether he wanted it or not.

They’ve already touched plenty; he knew how Yuuri’s naked body felt pressed against his own, he knew the feel of Yuuri’s arousal in his hand. He even managed to persuade Yuuri to let Victor look at him while the Russian was pleasuring him with his hand. But as to kissing, Victor only ever tasted him from the waist upwards, and he thought it was time to change this regrettable fact. He wanted to devour his Katsudon with gusto. Without further ado, he stood up with Yuuri in his lap, turned them around and deposited him on the bed, himself kneeling down in front of a surprised Yuuri. “Victor, what…?”

“Yuuri.” Victor’s tone was serious as he trained his look straight at the younger man, splaying both of his hands flat on his tights. “I want to go down on you.”

Yuuri’s mouth went agape and then he mouthed Victor’s words silently until they clicked; then there was a series of various expressions on Yuuri’s face, ranging from lust to terror, and then finally came a shy question: “You mean…?” Yuuri gestured vaguely towards his tented pants.

“Yes, I mean exactly that,” Victor said and licked his lips in order to clear any remaining confusion. “Lift your hips.”

Instructions was something that Yuuri was comfortable with, so he did exactly as Victor had asked him without any hesitation. Leaving any finesse aside, Victor pulled down his jogging pants together with his underwear and dropped them next to the bed. He caressed Yuuri’s shins and thighs, letting them rest on his hipbones. Mindful of the bruise that bloomed on his left hip, he allowed his thumbs to gently massage the tender flesh in the crease between his legs and torso.

“Should...shouldn’t I take off my socks as well?” stuttered the younger man.

“Nah,” Victor chuckled. He pushed Yuuri’s legs further apart to get better access to his objective. “I don’t care about socks. That’s not where I’m going to look at.”

“R-right,” Yuuri giggled nervously and then squeaked when the Russian placed a wet, open-mouthed kiss to his inner thigh. Victor continued gliding his mouth upwards, deliberately letting Yuuri’s hardened dick slide along his cheek, finally nuzzling the patch of hair at the its base. The cursory peck, quickly pressed onto the shaft, caused Yuuri’s cock to jump. Yuuri clamped both of his hands over his mouth, trying to stifle a moan. The door might be locked, but the room sure wasn’t soundproof. When Victor got a hold of his dick and licked the tip, one of Yuuri’s hands wandered up, over his eyes. He would definitely smudge his glasses, but that was the last thing Yuuri cared about right now.

“Yuuuuuri,” Victor complained when he noticed it; his warm breath caressing the sensitive flesh of the head, raising goose bumps all along Yuuri’s thighs and forearms, “don’t cover your eyes. Look at me!”

Yuuri found the courage to peek from between his fingers down at Victor just as the latter decided to lick up the bead of precum that had leaked from the tip of his dick. He let out a strangled noise and closed his fingers again.

“I can’t,” he breathed. “It’s too much. Looking and feeling at the same time.”

Victor sighed. “All right, don’t worry about it. You can look later,” he said and swallowed him down without further warning, eliciting another suppressed moan from the younger skater.

The sensation of Victor’s hot, wet mouth all around his cock was overwhelming. Yuuri’s whole body was trembling; he knew he wouldn’t be able to remain comfortably in his sitting position. Even holding the upper part of his body upright seemed like a Sisyphean task right now, so Yuuri let himself fall backwards across his bed, eyes and mouth still covered. Unfortunately, Yuuri’s old bed really wasn’t too broad, and the next moan that escaped him wasn’t from lust but from pain, following a hollow thud as the back of Yuuri’s head connected with the back wall. Victor’s head bobbed up and he peeked at him with concern, bracing himself on Yuuri’s knees.

“Yuuri, are you all right? You don’t have a concussion, do you?”

Yuuri groaned, now hiding the upper half of his face with both hands. “I’m fine,” he cried. “Just go on. Everything all right. Oh God, I’m such an embarrassment.”

Embarrassment or not, it didn’t affect his arousal, Victor observed with delight. He grabbed Yuuri’s hips and pulled him forward in order to make place for him to lay down easily.

Victor continued his ministration with enthusiasm. After a while, Yuuri instinctively lifted his legs, linking his ankles behind Victor. They were a comfortable weight on his back, grounding him in the moment. He was surprised himself how satisfying it felt to blow Yuuri, to taste him on his tongue, to take him in deep until the head touched the back of his throat; to listen to the little sounds the other man was making.

As for Yuuri, he wasn’t sure if the floating feeling he was experiencing was the effect of hitting his head earlier or of Victor’s skilled mouth sucking the soul out of him, but it sure was a feeling he had never imagined, much less experienced before. He already felt more excited than at the few occasions the necessity compelled him to bring himself off. His sense of touch felt concentrated on his middle and diffused all over his body at the same time. He vaguely registered hands sliding under his T-shirt and up his torso, and occasionally pushing his knees apart a bit, trying to get him to relax his grip around the other man’s head.

He finally let his hands leave his face in favour of clutching the sheets on the sides of his head. Yuuri whimpered. His whole skin felt sensitive with tingles; he was trembling again, and he wasn’t able to prevent a slight thrusting motion of his hips, finding leverage by pressing his heels into the other man’s back. Victor seemed to encourage him, humming around his dick when he felt Yuuri’s movements. He was applying his tongue with unceasing enthusiasm, hollowing out his cheeks and bobbing his head up and down, taking him in until the head touched the back of his throat.

The orgasm surprised Yuri so that he could do nothing but buck his hips up, head tilted backwards with his mouth open in a soundless scream, legs locked in an iron grip around... _whatever_ was between them. He was too far gone to remember at that moment.

As he came down, he realized that _the whatever_ was emitting distressed sounds and he felt a hand beating desperately on his thigh. He let his legs fall down on the sides of a distraught Victor, whose face was bright red and who was presently gasping for air as if he had been choking. Which he probably was, realized Yuuri; he had practically smothered the man earlier.

Yuri tried to sit up, but failed. His limbs still felt like jelly from his climax, so he settled for propping himself up on his elbows, giving the other man an apologetic smile, while Victor rubbed his abused ears, grinning at him broadly in return.

“Was it good? How is your head?”

“I’m sorry I almost strangled you,” Yuuri said, looking sheepish. Trust Yuuri to turn an erotic situation into a farce. To make the situation worse, he seemed to remember something: “Victor, what did you do with...you know...”

“Hm, with what?” It took a while to realize what Yuuri meant, but the young man kept looking intently at his lips. “Ah, I swallowed it.”

“Vi-Victor!” Yuuri squawked, letting himself fall back on the bed.

“Well it’s not like I had a chance to pull off at all,” the Russian chuckled. “Remember, you held me in a death choke with those godly thighs of yours. My ears are still ringing, but I don’t really mind, nope, not at all, my Yuuri, my sweetheart, the light of my life,” Victor kept blabbering while he crawled up the bed, nuzzling his face into Yuuri’s hips, tummy and belly-button, turning them so that they lied along the long side of the bed—in order to avoid any further collisions with the wall, Victor said. Yuuri was sure Victor would never let him live down this unfortunate incident. He nibbled his skin and peppered kisses here and there, until he elicited a burst of laughter from the younger man. He kept sliding the folds of Yuuri’s shirt up until he managed to completely strip it off of him, attacking the newly exposed area of his chest and neck with kisses and raspberries, until the other writhed with mirth underneath him.

There was a brief interlude when Yuuri pushed him off after he realized he had lost his glasses somewhere in the bedding and was anxious to find them and put them aside. Victor used the break in their frolicking to chuck off his own clothes, getting rid of Yuuri’s socks as well in the process.

Once completely naked, Victor wriggled on top of Yuuri to grind his still hard dick into Yuuri’s lap, claiming his lips in a hot, open mouthed kiss. At the same time he kept tickling Yuuri’s sides, which resulted in a strange mixture of moans and giggling fits from both of them. Yuuri had just managed to slide his hand between their bodies and grab Victor’s cock, giving him a few pumps in an attempt to stop the other from tickling him, when they were interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. Yuuri yelped, and they froze in their movements, both looking at the door.

“Yuuri?” It was Mari. “I heard you’re awake, I’m going to the town to do some shopping, is there anything special you want me to bring you? Victor?” She asked, obviously barely keeping the amusement out of her voice. Yuuri cursed under his breath.

“No,” he said, managing not to sound too squeaky. “I don’t want anything special. Neither does Victor. I’m fine, we’re fine, just go away.”

“Alrighty,” came the disgustingly upbeat reply. “I’m off, just carry on whatever you were doing; have fun and be safe.”

“I swear she’s doing it on purpose. She wants me to die from embarrassment,” Yuuri groaned, while Victor was pressing his face into his neck, laughing uncontrollably.

“It’s not funny!” Yuuri exclaimed indignantly. “I’m sure she’ll harass me afterwards in front of mom and dad, and then I’ll suffer a heart attack because she’ll make sure they know what we were doing here because she must have heard and she’ll tell Minako and oh God we’re meeting Yuuko and Nishigori later today, how will I ever be able to look them in the eye, oh my God...” Yuuri was on the right way to work himself into a panic attack, so Victor tried to do some quick damage control. He framed Yuuri’s face with his hands and planted a firm kiss on his mouth to stop him from babbling and said:

“Yuuri, breathe. You and I are both grown men and we’re in a relationship; it’s perfectly normal to have sex. I’m sure your parents already know what we were up to after dinner, anyway” he said, massaging his thumbs along Yuuri’s cheekbones. “You weren’t exactly subtle when you marched me out of the room earlier,” Victor allowed himself a little smile, pecking Yuuri’s nose.

Yuuri blanched, then flushed, then blanched again, settling finally on a pale face and red cheeks with an utterly mortified expression. “I guess I didn’t think it trough properly,” he croaked, but at least he wasn’t hyperventilating any more.

“I guess you didn’t,” confirmed Victor. “But I can imagine you had a perfectly valid excuse not to.”

Yuuri looked at him with a perplexed expression.

“Well, I mean, all of your blood was obviously in a different place than your brain, so no wonder it didn’t function properly,” Victor dead-panned.

“Victor!”

**Author's Note:**

> I have this idea about these two dorks slowly discovering the joys of a relationship (Victor) and sex (Yuuri); which journey happens not without a copious amount of funny and awkward situations—given Yuuri’s inexperience and occasional indecisiveness, courtesy of his anxiety. I also interpret Yuuri as demi-sexual, so he mostly missed the sex-hype train in his teens and now has to catch up with everything with Victor’s assistance.
> 
> This fic is an installment of [Disasters are not funny (or are they?)](http://archiveofourown.org/series/731346) series, which will consist of loosely connected oneshots (which can be read as stand-alone)
> 
> Also, I’m not a native English speaker, so I beg for your forgiveness for any funny grammar—but please feel free to point out in case you noticed some blatant mistakes, I’ll edit them!


End file.
